


Heart Necklace

by TheHuggamugCafe



Series: Boutique [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dirty Talk, F/M, Glove Kink, Incubus!Joker, Jealousy, Love Bites, Mementos, Phantom Thief!Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 08:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuggamugCafe/pseuds/TheHuggamugCafe
Summary: You swore to love him no matter who—orwhat—he was.He is everything to you: your classmate, your friend, your partner in crime, and your lover.However…Even within Mementos, the timeless tingles of jealousy stir within Joker.





	Heart Necklace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DramatistArtisan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramatistArtisan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Thievish Waltz](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19134286) by [DramatistArtisan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramatistArtisan/pseuds/DramatistArtisan). 

> _Flops down._
> 
> Good day to you all and happy Sinday.
> 
> Here is the first of my treats I wish to share with you all today.
> 
> Please indulge in the sinful good times and enjoy.
> 
> A very special shout-out goes to the amazing Artisanthemage, for inspiring me to write this. So thank you very much, Artisanthemage. Cheers to you!

“I saw that.”

It’s the first time your leader’s spoken in what feels like forever, but in actuality, it has only been a minute since he last spoke. You recall the way he stood, how he talked, and the _fire_ that possessed his onyx eyes gave an entirely new meaning to the phrase _bedroom eyes_ as his dark gaze slowly, oh so slowly travelled up and down your body.

If he indeed possesses such a thing as restraint, it certainly surprises you that he didn’t simply pin you to the closest hard surface—whether it was the wall or the subway tracks, you wouldn’t have cared—and fucked you senseless then and there.

Silence follows the frizzy-haired thief’s statement, silence that is broken only by your footsteps as well as his. You don’t reply right away because you see no need to speak at the moment.

_It’s better to let him vent his frustration before I say anything,_ you muse, making sure your masked stare remains pointing at your fellow Phantom Thief’s back.

There’s a stillness in the chilly air of Mementos, a sense of unease that does nothing to curb the uncertainty and unvoiced worry that wells up inside you. Still, you refrain from letting your feelings take a more physical and more obvious form. You refuse to let the words that form at the back of your throat to be spoken; you deny your voice the privilege of leaving your mouth, which you wet with the pink tongue that peeks out past your teeth.

Ultimately, you know it is pointless; your leader _and _lover is a bonafide incubus, so he can easily sense the emotions that are waging for dominance inside you.

When you can take the quiet no longer, you decide to voice your curiosity regardless of the hellish origins of your leader, and may any consequences that follow your decision be damned.

“Saw what?”

No sooner do you speak does the wild card stop, the clicks of his boots tapering off into the silent and wintry atmosphere.

“I saw the way that bastard angel was looking at you in the safe room.”

For a moment you feel annoyed, irritated that he doesn’t even turn around to fully address you as he talks, but you suppose it’s for the better that he hasn’t.

Your eyes roll heavenward and you voice a sigh, not caring if he hears it or not.

_Please. As if I’m interested in the likes of _him_, _you hiss silently, clicking your tongue in annoyance.

You raise a hand, feeling the leather that covers the tips of your fingers brushing a fringe of hair out of the way of your eyes.

You can practically _taste _the jealousy that edges Joker’s voice as he talks, and he makes no effort to hide the way passion’s cruel counterpart threads through the words that leave his lips, how the envy must surely be burning in his obsidian irises as he talks.

“And?”

For a moment and only a moment, you swear that if a pin hit the escalator just off to your left, the echo would have resonated. The silence that follows your statement is _that_ prominent.

You feel the cold sweat starting to form on your crown; the cool perspiration trails down your pale, wide-eyed visage. A couple of stray beads find their way to your mouth and you feel—and taste—the faint hint of salt lingering on your lips, but you ignore it as a hard lump forms in your throat.

You swallow it, the gulp sticking to your esophagus as it travels down to your stomach, where it flip-flops in trepidation and barely contained arousal.

The icy air is a blessing to your face, feeling the hauntingly familiar sensation of heat rising from your neck to shamelessly colour your cheeks with a faint and lovely hue of rose.

Slowly, he turns around to point a hair-raising stare on nothing and no one but _you_.

“What was that?”

Vaguely, it occurs to you that maybe provoking your lover—intentionally egging him on—isn’t the brightest idea you’ve ever had, however…

The clicks of his boots signal his approach and you find yourself unable to move. It’s as if roots have burst up from the ground, fracturing concrete and wrapping their thick tendrils around your ankles, ensuring you remain where you are.

His brows lightly pinch the slant of his eyes and you notice there is a faint, very faint hint of tension in his jaw. In the dimly lit darkness where he stands, there is no way you miss the telltale hue of red that flashes in his onyx irises before it consumes the blackness of his stare, and your mind conjures the image of hellfire blazing in a room filled with an endless void.

Soon, you feel your chin being held in the crook of leather clad fingers and your vision tilting up, finding yourself staring up into a face that is etched with devilish ire, and you cannot help but find it attractive as you watch as a snarl curls the corner of Joker’s lips.

“Would you be so kind as to repeat yourself?”

Nervously, you lick your lips and, sucking in a breath that is shaky to say the least, you foolishly obey your leader’s order.

“I said_‘and__’_?”

He hisses something in the language of demons that you do not grasp the meaning of; you are a _human_ and he is clearly _not_ of your world, naturally.

However, you do not need to be what he is to know that he is far from pleased.

The cold, hard wall and the equally-as-chilly railing press into your back, harshly, as you are shoved to the gritty surface; you feel the broad edge of the steel railing digging into your lower back, and you do your best to ignore it. You gasp at the sudden momentum and your body is forced to comply in order to adjust to the sudden pressure, and a soft yelp of surprise leaves you as a crimson palm quickly takes possession of your hands and holds them above your head, interlocking his leather-covered fingers with yours.

“_And_?” he seethes, hissing the word into your face as he leans in.

His fiery irises flash for a split moment and you will call it a lie to say that you are not intimidated.

You watch as a snarl once again takes possession of his lips, curling the corners up and baring a hint of his pearly whites to you. You inhale the comforting scent of coffee that wafts off of him as he presses his leather-clad self close to you, including the hint of mint that lingers on his breath as he voices a seething hiss that speaks volumes of his displeasure.

A second palm smacks against the concrete wall just inches shy of your face, and you take in a shivering breath at the action, feeling tension rocketing through your body. Initially, you aren’t sure if it’s from uncertainty or arousal, but considering you’re just barely holding yourself back from wrapping your arms and legs around him, and simply letting him tease the utter _soul _out of you to his heart’s content, it’s largely thanks to the growing dampness pooling in the crotch of your panties.

Now he’s basically trapped you between him and the wall, making damn sure you can’t—or won’t—try to escape from him; he knows that you know you will not be going anywhere without his say-so.

Quickly, he swoops in, pressing a harsh and bruising kiss to your lips before leaning away. In the time frame of a few seconds, there’s the sensation of warm leather gracing the hot, shivering skin of your throat. You feel the crimson clad fingers tearing the v-shaped Victorian-style collar of your attire open; you hear the sharp ripping that fills the ice-cold air as he bares your neck to his devilish leer.

“_**And **__you’re __**mine**_.”

There’s the lightest hint of his true demonic heritage present in his voice; you hear it lingering as he speaks to you. It is both heavy and light at the same time, rising and falling so that he is practically _growling_ in your face.

The only warning you get is the feeling of hot breath zeroing in on your neck before a pair of warm lips attack the sweet spot he’s long since memorized, soon adding his teeth and tongue as he doesn’t leave a love bite, but a love _bruise_ in place before he pulls away with a soft and noticeable smack of his lips.

“Shall I _prove_ that you are _**mine**_ and not _his_? I’ll fuck your brains out if I must, Treasure.”

Your tongue peeks out to lick your lips, and you feel Joker’s crimson leer watching as the moist organ wets your mouth.

Time seems to stand still as your eyes lock onto the glowing red irises of your beloved Trickster.

Finally, _finally_, you will yourself to speak past a slightly smirking mouth.

“I’m yours? Really now? Since when have I ever been _yours_, Joker?”

You’re teasing him, and the thought pulls a soft giggle from you as your leader smiles devilishly; you know he knows that you’re teasing him.

A breathy chuckle wafts over your face, warming your cheeks—lit with a blush that grows more furious—as the feeling of trouser clad hips are already beginning to shamelessly rut against yours.

A sharp nip to your lower lip is all the forewarning you receive as he purrs sensually in your ear.

“How quickly you forget… You were _mine_ from the start, my dear. I’ll remind you of this simple truth, and as many times as I see fit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not to worry, my dear customers.
> 
> The good stuff will take place next chapter.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> Remember: stay thirsty, my dears.


End file.
